


Torment Of Tantalus

by SwirlsOfBlueJay



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Big Bang Challenge, Dark, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-17 02:22:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwirlsOfBlueJay/pseuds/SwirlsOfBlueJay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stefan gets kidnapped by witches and bitten by a werewolf. Klaus needs to get to Stefan in time to give him his blood and cure him. If Klaus is going to reach his lover before it’s too late he will first have to reach a long lost part of himself. Damon comes along for the ride to ensure his brother is saved. Meanwhile Caroline tries to look after Stefan as he begins to hallucinate and relive the key moments of his and Klaus’s relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Torment Of Tantalus

Stefan paces around the cave, fingers perpetually rising to—and poking at—the wound on his shoulder. Deep red and sunken into his flesh, the bite’s venom spreading along the bulging veins surrounding it. He has to get out quickly. Walks up to the magical wall blocking his passage, nudges it forcefully, walks to the back of the cave; shoves ineffectually at some rocks, searching for a weak point. There is none. He keeps looking, placing his hand in his pocket; sparing the potentially fatal werewolf bite from his fidgety fingers.  At least he won’t have to worry about getting the cure from Klaus once he escapes. He chuckles warmly at the thought of how far they’ve come, mind drifting back to the beginning.

It starts with Stefan crushing Klaus’s heart, literally. Klaus’s temporary death unleashes an assault of compelled away memories on Stefan’s mind. Different from when Klaus compelled him to remember, this time the memories have added dimension; sense and feeling and cohesion that had been lacking. This time he realises how special what they had had been. Of course, at first he suppresses the feelings, hiding them away, withdrawing from the whole Klaus issue. There are other things to worry about and occupy himself with: Elena turning for one. By the time Klaus is back in his own body, Stefan already feels like he might explode, from need and want and guilt and self-loathing. Damon is giving him funny looks, but not saying anything. No one else has noticed.

Then one day Klaus settles in a chair at the boarding house, apparently just to be a general nuisance.

“I really thought we would be getting on together by now,” Klaus says, with the same half broken, half amused tone he always has.

And the damn breaks.

Stefan rushes at Klaus, pushing him into a kiss that’s more of a bite. Klaus returns the kiss just as violently, no hesitation at all. They scramble together for a string of moments that run into each other like colliding trains. And then break apart by inches, still threaded together by fingernails. 

“I hate you,” Stefan whispers.

“I know,” Klaus says with a smugly delighted expression on his face.

In the following weeks, they fuck, a lot. On tables, in corners, fields, restaurant restrooms, and beds, but always places no one they know would catch them, much to Klaus’s dismay. 

“This doesn’t mean anything,” Stefan says, wonders whether the words sound quite as weak as when Klaus used to threaten to kill him. Waits for Klaus’s usual smirked ‘of course not’. It doesn’t come.

***

Klaus glances at the clock again; Stefan was supposed to be back from his meeting with the Tilda Corp CEO three hours ago. They probably just went for drinks, and Klaus tries to supress the possessive spike that appears at that thought; besides it’s not like Stefan isn’t perfectly capable of handling himself. Klaus would like to think he’s above caring but has long ago resigned himself to Stefan being the exception.  

“Niklaus, I have news,” Elijah says, his face holds his usual stoic expression, but Klaus can see the undercurrent of worry present.

“What?” Klaus asks, affecting a grin.

“My witches have informed me that some of their kin have taken Stefan.”

“What, where are they?” Klaus snaps angrily, covering his panic with rage.

“Stefan is here,” Elijah says, handing Klaus a piece of a map.

Klaus takes it, contemplating how the location was so easily found, even for Elijah.

“They’re luring me into an ambush,” he states.

“It appears so,” Elijah replies, nodding.

Klaus says nothing more, heading towards the place as fast as he can go.

***

Klaus hovers nearby; just because he’s indestructible doesn’t mean he can be reckless and risk the witches killing Stefan before he steps onto the site. He edges closer; he can’t see or hear any of the witches, so they must be hiding from him. He scopes the place, moving in a circle, impatience growing as he fails to find anyone. Minutes later, he suppresses the urge to mockingly yell ‘come out, come out, wherever you are’; Stefan’s too important to lose the advantage. 

Then Klaus hears a sigh. It’s Stefan, he’s sure of it.

“It’s about time,” Stefan says in an amused, tired tone. “It’s okay, I’m all alone down here.”

It’s probably a trick. Klaus doesn’t care; he speeds down to the caves, coming to an abrupt halt as he slams into something an instant before reaching Stefan.

“What the hell?”

“No entry to vampires,” Stefan laughs, tapping on the air in front of him.

“And I suppose you want me to get you out,” Klaus says with fond amusement, mood lightened by Stefan’s good spirits.

“No rush, I could always find a way out alone,” Stefan says, feigning a pout.

“I’ll go call some witches,” Klaus says, rolling his eyes as he moves to leave the caves.

“Wait, stay,” Stefan asks.

“What is it?”

“I just don’t want to be alone here,” Stefan says.

“When those witches who put you here come back you’ll wish otherwise,” Klaus argues, looking at Stefan with incredulity. 

“Just stay for a bit; I’ll even let you rant about Damon.”

“We have to get you out before your captors return, there’s no time for idle chit chat.”

“I’m pretty sure they’ll be gone a while,” Stefan says.

“What’re you not telling me?”

Stefan sighs and rolls up his sleeve. Klaus’s chest constricts in shock as he sees it; flesh dark and rotting; a werewolf bite. 

***

Stefan watches as Klaus bites into his wrist.

“What are you doing,” Stefan asks.

“Even if I can’t get across this, my blood should be able to, after all the barrier is made out of air.”

“It’s made out of magic.”

“Just come here already.”

Stefan stands, Klaus bites his wrist again, and places it against the barrier, the blood doesn’t smear against it like glass, just sits there--waiting. Stefan puts his own hand against the barrier where Klaus’s wrist is. They both stand there for a tense moment, and then Stefan chuckles, shows Klaus his bare--spotless--hand.

“That would’ve been too easy,” Stefan says, sinking back to the ground.

***

Klaus stands at the edge of the caves with a little girl; he doesn’t want to see Stefan in this state—doesn’t see why he should. Once he fixes this it won’t matter anyway. He leans down to the girl’s eye level and speaks.

“I want you to take this mug all the way into the cave, and when you see a man, give it to him okay?”

The girl nods with a typical blank compelled air and proceeds, carefully stepping inside the cave. Klaus watches her, pretending he doesn’t see Stefan in the background; trying to breathe like this isn’t the difference between salvation and the end of everything he cares about. She reaches the barrier and steps through like nothing is there, but the hand carrying the mug lags behind.

Confused, she tries to yank the mug through, which results in it toppling out of her little fingers. The blood splatters onto the ground, pooling tauntingly up against the barrier. 

***

Klaus strides towards the group of his witches pouring over grimoires.

“Why isn’t the barrier down yet?” he snaps.

Everyone stays silent, avoiding his gaze and staring intently at old spells. They’re nervous, which is unusual for them; he doesn’t keep the meek in his entourage. This is bad. 

“Tell me!” Klaus growls.

“It isn’t an ordinary spell that stops vampires from crossing. It’s a curse.”

“Oh, swell. And how are you going to break this curse?” Klaus asks forcefully.

“That’s the thing; only you can.”

There’s another silence.

“I don’t appreciate this slow meting out of information; just tell me what needs to be done!”

“You need to find redemption.”

“What!”

“Only once you have redeemed will the barrier dissipate.” 

***

Damon ignores Klaus and the girl Klaus is force feeding his blood to and walks straight into the cave.

“Hey,” Stefan says, giving him a nod.

“Hey, care package 2.0,” Damon grins, throwing the bundle into the cave.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll fix this,” Damon states.

“Sure you will,” Stefan replies, words somehow assured and lacking conviction simultaneously.  

Damon nods back and walks out.

***

Riffling through the items Damon left him, Stefan smiles as he finds a couple of Grisham novels. He flips one open, but his vision blurs as he tries to take in the words on the page. His mind floats away on a haze of spinning words, and then he’s somewhere else.

Stefan is almost three quarters through reading ‘the confession’, and trying to ignore the smell of blood permeating the air; the words sit static on the page but he can’t comprehend them, he looks over at Klaus. His lover’s head is tilted down at an angle that highlights his cheekbones, shadow starkly construing the stunning planes of his face, and exposes his long slender neck. Stefan knows it’s wrong to find the sight of Klaus drinking beautiful, but savours it anyway. Watches as blood paints his lips, an idle droplet on his chin; somehow subtle and messy at the same time. The girl in his arms is pretty, but moderately so, she sinks lower, fading. Stefan gives an audible sigh but says nothing at the thought that Klaus might kill her; they wouldn’t have gotten this far if they hadn’t allowed for push and pull.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Klaus snaps, without even looking, he continues to take another drink for appearances sake, but stops soon after.

Stefan still doesn’t say anything and hides his smile. He goes to the fridge, picking up a blood bag and letting the cold sear into his palm for a moment before languidly pulling the top off. He waits an extra beat (he’s the one in control, not the bloodlust) and takes a sip.

He doesn’t like to be a disappointment. He can be better for Klaus, especially when Klaus is trying so hard for him. He folds over the top of the blood bag as Klaus approaches him wolf-like, lets the warm blood wash luxuriously over his lips as their mouths meet in a kiss. This is Klaus’s push to his pull; they will reach a medium together (Stefan’s not turning ripper for Klaus, and Klaus isn’t turning ‘saintly’ for Stefan; they’ve already agreed, they’re making it work).

Later, sated and lying naked on sheets with a ridiculously high thread count, Stefan finishes reading his book. It’s the last of the books he has with him; he’ll probably go back to the boarding house in the morning to bring a few more over. It’s at that thought he pauses, he hasn’t been back to his house in almost four months. 

“What are you grinning for,” Klaus asks, startling him out of his thoughts.

“We’re living together,” Stefan replies, somewhat surprised.

“You only just realised,” Klaus mocks, slightly too quick to be believable. 

The bed turns to dirt floor, and Stefan sighs with frustration at the realisation that he was hallucinating.

***

Caroline stands on a hill top just beyond the caves and looks down--well she’s definitely in the right place. About two hundred people are milling around; witches, hybrids, vampires, humans, all following Klaus’s orders. People in lab coats and hard hats and grimoires and altars spill all over the place.

“What are they doing?” she asks, indicating the people with drills and cranes as she walks up to Klaus.

Klaus stamps his foot where someone points, and a whole section of the ground collapses.

“We’re opening up the caves, and then I’m going to find a weak point in the barrier.”

Caroline looks around, noticing the plethora of holes and worn out witches beside them. Immediately decides that this isn’t a productive plan and makes a mental note to never mention aloud that Damon was right.  

“You need to be more positive,” Caroline says instead.

“More positive? I’m doing everything I can! I even had those scientists put my blood in a centrifuge, so I could try to get the constituents of my blood across the damned barrier. And I’m going to keep going until I find something that works! So do explain, sweetheart, how I could be more positive?” Klaus says, half sneering, half frustrated. 

“You’re trying all the things that haven’t worked again and again, instead of trying the one thing that has a chance; if you’ve already given up on Stefan at least do him the respect of admitting it!” Caroline argues.

Klaus growls angrily at her, amber lighting his eyes, but she only holds his glare in return and a moment later the anger fades. She watches as his shoulders slump and he seems to fold into himself.

“I can’t lose him Caroline,” Klaus whispers, voice cracking over consonants.

“I know,” she replies softly, wondering how someone over a millennium old could look like such a vulnerable child.

***

“Are you sure you can handle all this?” Klaus asks, filling a large bottle with his blood in case they figure something out while he’s gone.

She gives him a glare that says ‘do you know me?’

“Right, you’re Caroline, what was I thinking.”

“Come on,” she orders, taking the bottle and dragging him off.

Klaus groans as the Camaro comes into sight.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m not going to let you screw this up. Get in,” Damon answers.

***

Stefan listens as Klaus orders around his witches, thinks about telling Klaus to go easier on them, to be less bossy, but his eyelids droop and he’s somewhere else again.

“I have a surprise for you,” Klaus says with a wicked cheeriness.

“Since when do you do surprises? Should I be concerned?”

“I’ve decided that we’re going to get married,” Klaus says.

“You decided,” Stefan repeats with amusement, knowing this is the only way Klaus could pop the question. 

“And I’ve organised the whole thing; it happens this afternoon.”

“You did what!?”

“I did this for us Stefan, now we never have to be apart,” Klaus states simply, grin still in place. 

“And you thought the best way to do that was to spring it on me at the last minute and strong arm me into it,” Stefan argues vehemently. 

“You could afford to show more gratitude, Stefan, after all the work I’ve put in,” Klaus says in a low, darkly toned, register. 

Stefan’s reply is to storm off. He runs until he almost crashes into Elena. At which point he begins ranting,

“Can you believe he did this, he didn’t even ask, like I’m supposed to just submit to whatever he wants. He organised the whole thing so I can’t say no, it’s so manipulative. He’s so possessive, you know that’s what this is about; he wants to be able to keep me, like a toy.”

“Look Stefan, I get it, Klaus is a controlling ass, but it’s simple. Do you want to be married to him?”

“I guess I do,” Stefan huffs, frustrated.

 

As the horse-drawn carriage pulls up to the expanse of land the wedding is taking place on, Stefan looks out at the event in awe. The sheer size alone is dizzying; there are at least a thousand guests present, and the bays of orchestras, smaller bands and pianos alone seem to match that number. The setting has been made enchantingly beautiful with lanterns and fairy lights.

“Is that Mylie Cyrus?” Stefan asks, and in the next instant begins noticing other famous people who are around.

***

Caroline visits sometime in the middle of the wedding, and he’s about to make a joke about her dressing up just to come to a cave when he realises she’s not actually wearing the dress he’s seeing her in. 

“How’re you holding up?” she asks.

“You’re wearing a ball gown,” Stefan replies.

“Oh. Then there’s one advantage of hallucinations. Everyone’s working hard on getting you out of here.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to talk about it, or we could play--I brought cards,” Caroline says, smile encompassing her face.

Stefan finds himself genuinely smiling for the first time in what feels like forever.

“Definitely, don’t think you can beat me at poker just because I’m dying; I’ll still kick your ass.”

“Don’t think I’ll let you win at gin just because you’re dying,” Caroline responds, dealing out the cards, managing to land all of them face-down even as they fly through the barrier.

***

Klaus and Damon stand reluctantly in front of the giant banner declaring ‘Houses for the Homeless,’ taking in the ridiculously chipper and determined volunteers. It was their second job of the day.

“Stefan is going to owe us so big.”

“Can’t we just find another children’s hospital that needs a mural?”

“No more art projects, it doesn’t count if you’re enjoying yourself.”

 

As his assignment requires, Klaus quickly saws pieces of wood, finds himself glancing around every few minutes like the last plank could be the last straw, and maybe he could smell on the air that Stefan’s now fine. He chides himself for his foolishness, but doesn’t stop doing it. Two hours trip over into three and then grind into four, and he keeps going, plagued by the dull monotony.

Damon lounges on a spare work bench, debating with the project manager about appropriate furnishings for a house of this style. Said manager is much too eager to take on board Damon’s input.

“How about you actually help?” Klaus suggests with impatience.

“But the less I do, the more there is for you to do, and you know, redeem yourself,” Damon smirks. 

***

They honeymoon in Chicago, because--where else?--and they have all the time in the world for other places. The hotel room is overly lavish, and the concierge delicious; well, the little they had anyway.

“All mine,” Klaus says, running kisses down Stefan’s sternum.

“Don’t forget; you’re all mine too,” Stefan replies, pulling Klaus up by his hair.

“All yours,” Klaus whispers with wonderment.

Stefan realises Klaus has never belonged to anyone before, only had belongings, he tries to hide the level of glee he feels at the idea of making Klaus understand just what it is to belong.

“Don’t smile so much, you’ll ruin the mood,” Klaus says, nipping at his hip.

Stefan’s attention is partly distracted by a bellhop who looks like one of Klaus’s witches, carrying a bottle of blood, telling someone they still can’t get through the barrier, but it bores him so he turns his attention back to the hotel room and Klaus’s ministrations.

 

***

“It’s not working,” Damon informs him.

“Maybe I need to be there in person,” Klaus suggests.

“They’re your witches, they say the barrier would be completely gone if you’ve redeemed. Do you think they’re wrong?”

“It’s unlikely.”

“Okay, time for something new; Elena suggested that you try apologising to some of the people you’ve hurt.”

“They’re mostly dead.”

“Yeah, how about their families then?”

“It’s an insurmountable and pointless notion, next idea.”

Damon angrily grabs a hold of Klaus and shouts;

“Listen, I don’t really care what you think; I’m not letting you half-ass your way through this when it’s my brother’s life at stake. I’ve looked after Stefan his entire life; I will find a way to save him. I always do. So are you going to follow my lead, or do you want him to die?”

Klaus thrusts his hand into Damon’s chest, fingers squeezing his heart;

“The only reason your heart isn’t on the floor right now is Stefan. Do not question my determination to keep him alive again.”

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

Klaus sits in one corner, Damon in another, both half thinking of a solution and half wallowing in despair. Klaus’s cell phone rings. Caroline’s name is on the caller ID.

“Don’t call me until you’ve got something useful to say,” Klaus spits out in answer to the shrill ringing.

“Stefan wants to speak to you,” Caroline says, not missing a beat, “I’m putting the phone down right outside the cave.”

“Wait, no,” Klaus refuses, but is cut off.

“Hi, Nik,” Stefan says softly.

“Hello, Stefan.”

“I heard someone mention trying to apologise to people, thought I would call and find out what you think about that,” Stefan says encouragingly.

“It’s pointless,” Klaus states.

“We both know that’s not the issue. What’s the real reason?”

“There’s no other reason,” he insists.

“What are you worried about?” Stefan replies with insistence of his own.

“What if I can’t do it?”

“It’s going to be hard; it’s supposed to be, but I have faith in you Klaus, trust me, you can do it.”

“Forgive me if I’m not convinced by your platitudes,” Klaus replies.

“How you’re feeling now, that’s how you’ve made others feel, remember that.”

“It’s not the same,” Klaus argues. 

“How so?” Stefan asks.

“I don’t think anyone could feel as strongly as I feel for you.”

“That’s sweet. Only you could be that arrogant. It may be time for some serious introspection Klaus; will you do it for me?”

“Okay,” Klaus says hesitantly.

“Good, all I can ask is that you try. Love you Nik.”

“Yeah, me too,” Klaus says as he hangs up.

Klaus takes a breath, before stating, “Whatever it takes.”  

“If it takes killing you to get that barrier down. I will find a way to kill you, and I will do it, and then I will find a way to live with Stefan hating me, because at least he will be alive,” Damon replies, because it’s the truth and it’s always a competition. 

***

_One month ago_

“Is there any other order of business?” the coven leader Jessica asks.

“I have one,” Tamsin declares. 

“Go ahead,” Jessica says, waving her hand permissively. 

“Klaus is more powerful than ever before; it’s a serious threat that we’ve been ignoring because it’s convenient to,” Tamsin says. 

Ciara, one of the younger witches, sits silent after this line is delivered by the elder witch; the world itself is in the balance here, her next action crucial. The others might think her a foolish youngster if she had brought the important matter of Klaus to their attention. So she had waited, patiently. Now was her chance to prove herself. She listens carefully to the tone around her, and all of the members’ body language; who was for action and who needed convincing. She lets the discussion flow on without her for several minutes.

“He is indestructible and, as it has been mentioned, more powerful than ever. It would not be a wise endeavour to target him,” Jessica decrees sternly.

It is now that she lets her idea be known; 

“We must lead him to seek redemption, it is the only way,” Ciara points out, holding in a scoff at the general surprise that she had a good idea; she has always been underestimated. She receives a few nods of consideration and then moments later a few words of approval.  

“It’s an option.”

“It would definitely be safer than a straight-forward attack.”

“That seems like a rather tall order,” a grey-haired witch rebukes.  

“We will give him no other choice; we will use Stefan Salvatore,” she proclaims quietly, hiding her excitement at the buoying effect the others’ agreement is having. 

“That’s a very dangerous strategy. It could end up with the situation being much more unstable than it is now.”

“It’s only an illusion of stable; we’re just sitting around waiting for the bubble to burst.” 

“You cannot force someone to redeem, they either feel remorse for their actions or they do not,” Jessica says.

Ciara knew it was true, and yet was counting on the others to not listen; as careless as ever in their righteousness;

“It will be real. Klaus will feel the pain of potentially losing Stefan, and he will understand the pain he caused others.”

A vote is taken. She conceals a beaming smile as hand after hand rises in support of her plan, she has waited months for this topic to come up, and the results she has just achieved are only the beginning.

***

“Someone else should go in first,” Klaus states, walking up an unevenly paved path to a house with moss growing up the wall and a door with half the paint peeled off.

“Fine, I’ll scope it out,” Damon agrees with annoyance.  

“When I said someone else, I meant someone who isn’t you.”

“This is going to suck either way, just get on with it,” Damon says, knocking with the small lion-head knocker.

The door slowly opens to a reveal a chubby woman who looks to be in her fifties and has short cropped hair.

“We would like to talk about your husband, for a new memorial that’s being made to him,” Klaus says softly, smiling his most charming smile.

“Oh, come in,” the woman replies, expression morphing from cheer to sombre, gesturing for them to take a seat.

Klaus killed the woman’s husband. She speaks of the man with fondness in her voice and sorrow in her eyes. Even as her words make him think of Stefan, he still doesn’t care.

“I killed him,” Klaus states.

Her face contorts in lines of anger before dropping towards fear. Klaus has torn out the line before she can reach the phone.

“Wait, stop,” Klaus demands loudly, cutting her off as she runs for the door.

“What do you want?” She whimpers. 

“I’m here to atone,” Klaus murmurs reluctantly. She startles at that, angrily waving a fist in his face.

“Why, so you can feel better? Why should you be able to feel any better after what you’ve done!” she yells. “Get out!”

Klaus supresses the urge to just drink the screeching woman dry, and instead asks softly,

“Listen, I know you have no reason to hear me out, but what about you--don’t you have any questions?”  

“Get out! Get out! Get out!” she yells repeatedly.

Klaus leaves, because compelling her probably wouldn’t be conducive to his purposes.

“I’m so much better at the fake sincerity,” Damon says as they’re leaving.

“Funny. Do you think I’m not trying? I want to care, I just don’t.”

“You’ve been hanging around Stefan too long.”

“These human deaths don’t matter. He would’ve died anyway in a fraction of the time vampires live.” 

*** 

At the next place the situation devolves into a guy throwing potted plants and Klaus retaliating by throwing a television, bookshelves and a door.

“As much fun as this is, we’re leaving now,” Damon says. 

***

_There is a legend, a story young witches tell each other around campfires, of a witch not quite alive and not quite dead, who has been haunting covens for untold years._ _It’s said her bones were built from old dark magic, eyes as dark as the world. It’s said her power was too vast for any human heart, and so this creature she became, wielding magic as tempered as the darkest depths of hell._

***

Klaus’s going through the motions, another car ride, another door bell, another house or flat, another phone call measuring the time that’s running out. All he can think about is Stefan.

But he does his job efficiently, he will save Stefan, he always finds a way to make what he wants happen and this is not going to be the one exception. This can’t be the exception. He may not be the best at getting people to love him, but he was already the best at charming them a few centuries back. He imagines Stefan’s voice in his head telling him that’s not really the point here.

He had a reason for killing every one of them (he doesn’t know the names, let alone locations of the pointless kills or snacks). He goes through the motions with words of remorse, trying to feel them when all he can feel is numbness. There is always a clock ticking down, his super-hearing focuses on it almost against his will, bites his tongue to stop himself from breaking the quaint Swiss cuckoo when it announces the hour. 

Their rage and fear and grief and odd piece of grudging acceptance would maybe still amuse him if he wasn’t in the situation he’s currently in. The anger and sorrow these people feel will end, even if it is only with their death. Klaus knows he doesn’t have that luxury, knows what it is to have felt broken for centuries on end, knows he cannot face forever without Stefan. 

The time in between places is taken up finding out where someone is and figuring out how to get there as fast as they can. They stay silent, neither finding words helpful.

When it gets too late to knock on doors, they sleep in the car because they can’t be bothered to find a motel. 

***

The sun rises with wisps of pink and orange adorning the clouds, he can see patches of it through the holes Klaus made in the top of the cave, wonders detachedly whether it will be his last sunrise. Pain lances through his body, winding like spiral fractures. He thinks about the things he should do whilst he’s moderately lucid: he has said goodbye to Caroline, even though she refused to accept it. He should say goodbye to Elena while she’s here; he turns his head to call to one of the girls hovering around, to ask them to get Elena.

“Can you help me?” Stefan asks.

“Sure, what do you want?” the girl replies, coming closer.

That’s when he realises she’s human, how hungry he is, how much he wants blood that’s not out of a blood bag. Stefan looks at her, trying to focus, everything hazy, he wanted to ask her something.

“Would you be okay with someone drinking your blood?” he asks. 

Stefan leads the girl into the house, checking one final time that she’s okay with this, pretending he doesn’t know that she’s hoping this will end with him turning her.

“I brought you breakfast,” Stefan declares cheerily as he enters his and Klaus’s bedroom.

Klaus’s grin turns to a quizzical look when he notices that instead of a blood bag, Stefan has brought him a live meal.

“What, you thought I didn’t already know you still regularly drink straight from people,” Stefan asks grinning.

“No, I knew you knew, I’m wondering why you’re suddenly okay with finding and compelling me food,” Klaus states.   

Stefan begins to wonder whether this was a good idea, he wanted to do something special for his husband’s birthday because he knew how special it was to him. But he had also learned from Elijah (and Rebekah and Kol) that Klaus doesn’t like anyone knowing it’s his birthday due to previous disappointments. So he was trying to do something low-key without giving away that he knew. But Klaus doesn’t seem interested in feeding and keeps looking at him strangely.

“What’s wrong?” Stefan asks.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve compelled someone for their blood,” Klaus says pointedly.

“I’m not compelled, I want to do this,” the girl pipes up.

“Of course you do,” Klaus chortles, “only you Stefan.”

Stefan sees Klaus relax, and take hold of the girl’s hand, kissing the back of it, and drawing her closer.

“You were scared I had gone all ripper again!” Stefan exclaims in surprised realisation. “But you love ripper me!”

“Yeah, but then you’ll go all good again, and be all hateful and resentful, and it’s all so boring,” Klaus says nonchalantly.

“You care, that’s adorable.”

“Don’t make me rip your liver out.”

***

It’s mid-afternoon and they’ve barely stepped into a little flat when a 9mm is pointed at them. Klaus is too fed up to not laugh.

After the day they’ve had, the gun isn’t a surprise. The wooden bullets are.

The sound of shots pepper the air, and Damon collapses. Klaus rolls his eyes and throws Damon over his shoulder before speeding off. As he comes to a stop, Klaus drops the vampire on the floor like a sack of rotten potatoes. The bullet wounds can’t be too bad because Damon regains consciousness quickly. Said wounds make for a necessary break, and Damon broaches the subject they’ve been avoiding.

“So that’s four gonna to kill you, five want you to leave them alone, two are glad they don’t need to live in fear anymore, and one decided to forgive you, that’s a promising tally,” Damon deadpans as he hunches tiredly digging bullets out of himself. 

“I’m over a thousand years old, I’m well aware of the consequences my actions have. I’m not a child who needs to be confronted by them to understand. This is not helping matters or making me feel sorry,” Klaus replies with frustration, idly watching Damon remove bullets without bothering to help.

The truth is Klaus is tired of all this. Besides, (even though he won’t admit it) it has been years since he killed anyone; Stefan’s bad influence. He doesn’t like seeing his playthings as people, but he doesn’t like the idea of failing and leaving Stefan to die even more.

***

_It’s said if she comes upon you, there will be nothing you can use to fight her, you will be frozen, and she will steal your last breath. You will feel your magic leave you as air leaves your lungs._

***

“He was a good person; he didn’t deserve to die like that.” 

When he heard those words over thirty hours earlier, he had scoffed, the repetition by others had only bored him. All humans die, and it’s never pretty, and if you think someone is an innocent it’s only because you don’t know them well enough. But somehow this is different, like waking up in the same bed for the hundredth time and realising a painting hook he never noticed has been there all along.

It’s at that moment, hearing the words for maybe the fifth time that day, that something breaks. Everything floods in at once. He thinks of Stefan, the ripper of Monterey, the worst of the worst, but the thing with Stefan was, he always, always tried, always changed himself, moved himself towards some fictional ideal. For the first time Klaus thinks about how Stefan doesn’t deserve this. There’s anger tensing his muscles, he resists the urge to throw something. There’s a deep clenching in his chest and a sting in his nostrils.

Klaus feels terrible. And he’s relieved.

“Go ahead,” Klaus urges, “do whatever you want to me, I deserve it.”

He has to fight the urge to smile through his nausea. He thinks Stefan would be proud as he passively lets the man skewer him with whatever he has to hand. Klaus heals quickly, but doesn’t think that defeats the point. There’s an unused plank of laminate flooring protruding from his stomach, and he wonders who keeps spare laminate floor panels lying around, it hurts more than the massive plastic thing buried in his back. The blood darkening his shirt is now all over, making the garment look a different colour entirely, instead of just heavily stained. 

He can hear Damon outside making a call, telling them to check again whether the ‘insidious wall has been vanquished.’

***

“Stefan?” Elena asks. She’s shuffling around, he hasn’t seen her shuffle like that for a while, and then Damon’s next to her holding her hand. She shakes it off reluctantly.

“There’s something we have to tell you, Stefan, it’s not for your permission or anything, but you deserve to know,” Elena pauses, “Damon and I are together now.”

“Good. That’s good, I’m glad. Actually I’m seeing someone myself,” Stefan answers.

“Really, who?” Damon asks bluntly.

Stefan twitches his fingers, but then just blurts it out;

“Klaus.”

“Are you insane!” Elena exclaims.

“Did he compel you?” Damon inquires.

“No and no. But I’m happy, I know this is a lot to ask after everything, but can you give it a chance?”

“When did this even happen?”

“It was after we desiccated him wasn’t it; you remembered everything,” Damon states confidently. 

“How did you know?” Stefan questions with surprise.

“You’re obvious when you’re mooning over people.” 

“So…are you guys going to be okay with this?”

“Give us some time, we will be,” Elena says.

“Perfect emotional blackmail timing, Stef,” is Damon’s only response.

“Stefan?” Elena asks again, and suddenly he’s not in the boarding house anymore.

Right, cave, wolf-bite, hallucinations.

He sees her nudge the wall with subtlety as she sits down, and turn her head to hide her disappointment. 

“Where are Damon and Klaus?” Stefan asks, to let them both avoid the subject.

“They’ll be here,” Elena replies with determination.

“They’re off trying to save the day.”

“Not really the type to sit by a bedside.”

“Yeah, boy can we pick’em,” Stefan jokes.

“You should see what my ex was like,” Elena smirks in return.

***

Klaus is on his knees. Well, he’s not actually physically on them, but he is in every other way closer to it than he’s ever gotten.

Let it never be said that Klaus wasn’t one to own his selfishness. This is almost not even about Stefan for him. One thousand fucking years, and Stefan is the only one who truly understands him. He thinks everyone has that right, don’t they, to someone who truly understands and truly loves them. This is what Klaus deserves to have, after everything, it’s not fair that he’s losing it. No one else can get it, what it is to be alone for so long.

Decades and centuries littered about the place. People who try to measure up, only make the absence more stark with their failure.

They go to a witch Klaus knows, one who is somewhat of a specialist about these types of curses.

“Why isn’t it working?” Klaus roars at her.

“You haven’t truly redeemed. Your regret only comes from the desire that Stefan not die not true remorse,” she explains unapologetically. 

“What is this, I can’t, I am sorry, why, make it work, it has to work, I…” Klaus mumbles incoherently for several minutes on end, and then something snaps, and the person who took every bit of pain and used it as fuel takes over. 

“This was all a lie! You think you can mess with me? I will destroy everyone you’ve ever met,” Klaus yells, apoplectic. 

***

_Two weeks ago_

Ciara follows the orders of the older witch, surreptitiously intertwining her magic with the other witches, allowing her to play with the spell later.

“Very good,” the older witch encourages, while orchestrating her movements with a snooty air.

She smiles slyly, she can’t contradict the spell, but she can make it stronger, putting a back-up for the ‘wall’ in place. She will show everyone how she gets things done, will make it so that there’s no chance of the curse breaking unexpectedly. Then she will be worthy. 

“So the plan is set, and the spell is in place--are we sure the barrier will work as we desire?” the coven leader asks.

“Yes, as soon as Klaus repents, the barrier will disappear,” the elder witch confirms.

“Good. Then we must plan to capture Stefan.”

***

“Klaus, Klaus, I’m sorry, please come back, I’m sorry, don’t be angry, I’m sorry, sorry, Damon, come stay with me, I’ll do better, sorry, so sorry,” Stefan whimpers in confused delirium.

Elena runs into the cave, forcing herself to stop before she reaches the barrier, she speaks softly,

“Hey, it’s okay, Stefan, none of this is your fault, they’re just away because they’re trying to help, everything’s okay, no one is angry with you.”

“Don’t go, please don’t, come, I need you, I’m sorry, I’ll do whatever you want, sorry,” Stefan continues crying and begging. 

Elena tries to soothe him, but nothing works.

***

“Get back here,” Elena orders as soon as Damon answers the phone.

“We’re trying to save the day Elena, no time to babysit.”

“He’s scared and confused, and he’s blaming himself for your absence; he needs you here, both of you. I know this is hard, Damon, but sometimes there’s no saving the day. I know you, Damon; you won’t forgive yourself if you’re not here at the end.”

Damon hangs up the phone.

“Not quitting,” Klaus announces, as Damon simultaneously says, “Not giving up.”

They smirk at each other. And keep driving.

Elena calls again ten minutes later and doesn’t bother to argue, she knows them better than that. She leaves Stefan on the line, probably half for the purposes of a goodbye and half for emotional blackmail. A tinny distant sound comes over the phone; it’s full of half-formed pleas and painful mewling. The line remains open, and the sound carries on, unending.

Damon stares straight ahead vacantly. Klaus lets the car roll to a stop.

Both of them sit perfectly still, turning the car around means Stefan is actually going to die, no ifs, buts, or maybes to save him. It would help if one of them wasn’t one of them, neither he nor Damon are the type to readily accept surrender. Klaus would probably tear off the steering wheel his fingers are clenched around if they didn’t need the car to drive back.

***

“I was assured this would work as we required, what has happened?” Jessica demands.

“We don’t know, we’ve tried taking it down ourselves using the precautions we put in place but nothing’s working.”

“You made it weak, I fixed it,” Ciara asserts.

“What did you do? You must reverse it.”

“I made it so the barrier wouldn’t dissipate, and it can’t be reversed.”

“You foolish child, you do not understand the retribution Klaus will seek, you have doomed us all.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly well. I did not do this for you, I did it for the witch with bones of dark magic.”

“You betray your sisters for a witches fairy tale.”

Her mother told her it was just a story. Her grandmother told her it was quite a new story at that, the untold number of years being closer to fifty. She knew different, she felt it, deep down in her very soul.

***

Damon and Stefan sit silently on the ground, alone together. This is what they do. Occasionally having conversations through body language alone. Klaus can’t help the strong pang of jealousy; he and Stefan could read each other very well, but he had hoped to one day master wordless communication of this level. As he approaches, Damon slowly stands and leaves, locking eyes with his brother for one final moment.

***

Stefan’s eyes are closed; they have been for a while, but his hand is still up against the barrier; seeking warmth that isn’t there. Klaus places his hand in the same place; it could look like they were touching. He listens to Stefan’s heart, so slow now, he’s angry, unrelentingly angry, it feels wrong that his anger alone can’t bring down the barrier.

“It’s going to be okay,” Stefan rasps.

“Fuck you, ripper,” Klaus barks out a half choked laugh.

Stefan’s lips pull up in an attempted smile, his hand now sliding down. Klaus listens for the next heartbeat, but it doesn’t come.

***

_The story says this witch was once pure but plagued by dark forces which her magic could not quell, so she reached inside herself, to her own darkness, to destroy the dark forces, but as she used more of herself, she reached deeper and deeper, into darker and darker depths, until her entire being was inverted, until she became darkness itself._  

 

 

Chapter Three

_There’s a story that says her voice is carried on the wind, as nature’s current itself is infused with her power._ _It’s said her words fly on the wind and whisper into the dreams of the sleeping, commanding their will as her own._

***

Klaus sits there, as still as the body, not aware of time passing. He’s broken out of his trance by the sound of rocks beings thrown about, and Elena trying to calm Damon down. He wants to rip both of their heads off, but he supposes Damon has as much right to be here as he does. He immediately wants to tell Stefan how reasonable he’s being, and then somehow remembers afresh that he’s never going to be able to tell Stefan anything again. Unless…

He strides purposefully out of the cave, cold gaze on Elena;

“Where’s that nitwit brother of yours?”

***

Klaus sees Jeremy and is surprised by the time that has passed. The boy’s an old man now, grey engulfing his hair and a stiff crick in his step. Jeremy’s the one who tells him about the funeral (he hasn’t been reading his messages).

There’s an empty seat in the front row, it’s for him he supposes, but he remains off to the side far from the others. Not in the mood for dealing with these people, and not interested in the empty coffin. The words bore him, and his eyes drift over everyone. Elena’s crying, tears silently sliding down her face, her hand is clasped over Damon’s, digits tightened over his daylight ring, as though it might accidentally slide off his finger. Damon’s arm is around her shoulders, but his gaze is straight ahead into nothingness. Caroline is standing at the front speaking, about what a good friend Stefan was, her make-up is perfect and unhaunted by tears, but her hand is clutching a blood bag she has hidden in her purse (he can smell it). 

The others present didn’t really know Stefan, he was an incomplete image of a colleague or friend they’d known for a few years at most, even those who knew he wasn’t human; Elijah was sitting beside the empty chair, probably to make sure he didn’t do anything untoward. And he was certain Tyler was more concerned with Caroline than anything else.

He leaves before anyone tries to convince him to go to the wake.

***

Klaus drags Jeremy around like a lifeline; the old man spends most of his time sleeping or fiddling with his phone. He drives them to everywhere he thinks Stefan could be. Mystic Falls and Chicago and dozens of places he had mentioned over the years.

“Look, it just doesn’t work like that,” Jeremy says after two weeks of nothing.

He never thought he would regret having that indestructible white oak ash stake destroyed.

***

He doesn’t know who the witches who orchestrated this were. It almost doesn’t matter, this way his vengeance has no ending; this way he can allow payback to swallow him whole. He likes to think Stefan would appreciate what he’s done.

This is the memorial he creates in eight parts.

i He finds a witch

He moves as silent and significant as sunrise. She is planting seeds for vervain, pushing soil over the hole, light brown hair dangling in her eyes; he grabs a large strand, yanks back. She gathers herself quickly, setting off aneurysms in his head. He pays little attention. There’s an almost constant hum now anyway; scores of dead witches haunting him, he revels in the pain. It’s a good distraction.

ii He pours poison into them, lets them feel the pain of slowly dying

Wrenches her mouth open with his fist, lets the poison slide out of his grip and down her throat, she tries to spit it out. He keeps still (hand air-tight on her mouth) even as his hand is coated with bile and saliva. She’s already trembling when he lets go. But she doesn’t cry out in pain like some of the others have.  

iii He asks questions, what they know, who they know, the answers are never enough

“Who did it?” Klaus demands.

“What?” she asks with confusion. 

He sometimes forgets everyone doesn’t know, that Stefan’s death hasn’t been imprinted on everyone like it has with him. Well, that’s a travesty he plans on changing. When he’s done, they’ll all be just as broken by Stefan’s death.

“Who kidnapped Stefan Salvatore, who had him bitten and then shoved him in a cave there was no escape from, who bloody orchestrated his death!” Klaus yells.

“I don’t know, and I wouldn’t tell you if I did,” she replies in an unyielding tone.

He’s indifferent to her fight; some fight, some don’t, they all die the same way. And if he never gets answers, he has time to kill them all. 

“What _do_ you know?” he whispers, lips forming a malicious grin, settling into calm as he gets into his ritual.

“Nothing,” she says, still firm even though he can see that small spasms are beginning in her fingers and left leg.

“Now, now, I don’t believe that, you witches are all so chatty, you must have some titbit of gossip, tell me something and I’ll make you all better,” he taunts, holding her up as her leg buckles.

“You can kill as many as you want, you’ll never know if you’ve caught them, you will have to live with the idea that someone might have gotten away,” she says, collapsing entirely, unconscious and shaking on the floor.

“You didn’t last long,” he says, kneeling down beside her, frustrated by his interrogation being cut short by her weak constitution.

iv He heals them with his blood

He bites into his forearm and places it against her mouth; she wakes as his blood touches her lips. She’s one of the few who try to spit that out too, bucking beneath his wrist. He breaks her jaw apart.

v He plays, rips them apart

He begins crushing the bones of her left wrist inside his fist and snapping her tibia. Then twists her knee out of joint, and makes holes in her with his fingers--careful to avoid major arteries for now. Many of the others start begging and pleading at this point if they haven’t before, she doesn’t. He’s almost impressed.

Her face is lined with pain as he holds her up by her chin, fingers digging into her pale cheeks. She dangles there like a puppet. Tugs the left arm until it pops, lets it hang there dislocated for a while. Then rips the limb off entirely. Red speckles turn to a gush, and he clamps his hand over the hole, does the same with her right arm, and listens to the screams turn to shallow whimpers as blood runs through his fingers like gravy. 

vi When they wake, he forces them to drink blood and complete the transition (no more witchy spirits to worry about).

He looks around her home as she lies dead on the floor. Gaze slithering along book spines and hands rummaging through cupboards. She has _Memento_ on DVD. He puts it in the player and puts his feet up on the dark-glass coffee table. As resistant as she may’ve been under torture, she springs awake all the same—too shocked to hide. 

“Drink this,” he orders, throwing her a blood bag.

He waits, he will force her if he needs to, but letting them give in on their own, watching them surrender to their fate, is so much more fun. She inches towards it and throws it against the wall.

“That really only changes where you drink it from,” he says, gesturing at the small puddle forming on the floor.

He pulls her by her hair again, pushing her face-first into the puddle. Grins as her new fangs extend.

“Now,” he says, pulling her up and forcing eye contact, compelling her, “tell me what you know.” 

She scowls as the words fall out; “James, a warlock I knew from Seattle, knew one of the witches involved.”

vii He stakes them

“Thank you dear,” Klaus says with faux sincerity.

“No hard feelings,” he adds, taking a stake out and skewering her. 

viii Repeat and repeat and repeat.

The next one is a tall well-built man with patchy stubble and hair in bleached blonde spikes. His name is James.

*** 

Klaus is sitting outside a café, his table covered in maps weighted down by a coffee mug filled with blood and topped up with espresso, when he hears familiar stealthy footsteps approaching.

“Elijah… to what do I owe the pleasure,” Klaus asks, attempting a tone of amusement but it ends up watery at best.

“You have to stop this, Niklaus,” Elijah says simply, face as calm as always.

“I will stop when I have avenged Stefan.”

“It has been ten months, and you’re no nearer to finding the culprits; it seems you are planning on continuing to execute innocent witches until there are none left,” Elijah states.

Klaus started at hearing it had been ten months; he had paid little attention to the passage of time, in part the ache is still sharp as though only days have passed, dismissed periods of darkness being due to clouds rolling across the sky, he hasn’t slept, has eaten little. Then again a part of him felt it had been years, endless spooling of time alone, wandering, hunting, killing.

“Do not try to stop me brother,” is all Klaus says, returning to his maps.

Elijah, recognising that there will be no more getting through to him at this time, walks away.

***

Klaus goes from state to state, sometimes by car, sometimes by bus, sometimes he runs all the way. He interacts little with anyone in between, except for his spies; the witches are running, are fighting, are surrendering in the hope of mercy. He catches them all eventually. But the journeys are getting longer, through deserts and cities and remote backwater towns. Soon he will have to leave America, find those who have run afar to countries on the other side of the earth, but he has been hesitating, wanting to be done here first. He doesn’t want to leave Stefan behind, and that’s what travelling across the world feels like. 

He’s more cautious in Denmark and Germany, he can find people easier if they don’t know he’s in Europe. He buries a warlock deep in concrete, and another in a landfill, but most in the woods. Now earth joins the constant bloody detritus beneath his fingernails. He comes and goes from France, without visiting any of the museums which he usually spends days frequenting. 

In Naples he finds a girl with almost red hair and a mild Texan twang. The difference with this witch is that Damon is with her.

“Don’t touch her,” Damon demands, chest puffed out, blocking his path.

“Get out of my way before I break every bone in your body,” Klaus hisses, stepping into his face.

“It has been almost two years. You’ve killed over a third of the witches. I don’t really care about you deluding yourself that this is what Stefan would want, when we both know it’s the last thing he ever would. But she is on our side, she’s trying to help, so leave her alone,” Damon lectures him, trying to block the girl from his view as she steps towards the door. 

“Trusting any witch to help is naïve,” he replies, taking hold of Damon’s arm and staking him in the gut for his candour. 

The vampire still attempts to protect the girl. It’s only when he throws Damon across the room past a stray beam of light that he notices the shutters are down.

“Where is your daylight ring?” Klaus asks.

“I lost it,” Damon shrugs.

Klaus grabs the girl and flashes away.

***

Damon tries to slip inside their house silently, via the bedroom window, but Elena of course sees him coming. She’s standing there, ring accusation-ripe in her hand. He reaches forward to take it.

“This is the sixteenth time you’ve left this,” Elena says with resignation.

He almost steps back in shock, hand hovering around in air, this isn’t her usual reaction. She puts the ring in her jewellery box, determinedly closing the lid.

“It’s time to decide,” she says. 

It only takes a moment for him to remember what she’s referring to, and he thinks back to the first time he did this.

_“No, you don’t get to do this, not now,” Elena yells at him, as she forcefully shoves his ring back on his finger, “it hurts, I know, it hurts like hell, it feels like a piece of you has died and you can’t go on, but you have to go on anyway, now is not the time you get to decide you’re giving up.”_

Elena’s softly spoken words interrupt his reverie;

“I’m done convincing you, and I’m done fighting with a ghost, you have to decide for yourself, whether _this_ is worth living for, whether _I_ am worth living for. If you open that box, you’re putting that ring on and not taking it off again.”

He sits on the bed, Elena goes downstairs and he can hear her making tea, then watching some television, then doing some washing up and filling out some forms for work. She’s reading a book in the living room when he puts his ring on and joins her. 

***

Today’s witch is a short, black haired creature with thin lips and saucers for eyes. It’s during part five that a reproachful shadow falls over him.

“Some witches have taken Caroline and Elena; they’re demanding that you go to them,” Elijah tells him.

Klaus looks up from the body wrapped around his hands, takes in Elijah’s stance, and then looks back down at the almost-corpse, dismissing his brother.

“You’re not going,” Elijah says with a barely perceptible hint of resignation. 

“No,” Klaus confirms. He refuses to follow any witches demands—who are they to demand anything of him.

***

Damon sneaks around outside the warehouse, listening, considering his next move. The sensible thing would be to wait for Elijah to get back; even though the original has already told him that Klaus isn’t coming, he would be a useful addition to a rescue mission. But Damon doesn’t want to risk Elena’s life by waiting, and he’s never been much for the sensible thing.

He finds a vent to crawl through, and moves as quietly as possible through the too-small shaft. He knows he’s in the right area before he sees anything, can smell the vervain from several feet away. He carefully peeks through the grate into the room and immediately spots Elena and Caroline bound to nailed down chairs with vervain ropes. There’s only one guard in the room, but probably a lot more elsewhere. He takes out one of his tranquiliser darts, but it doesn’t fit through the grate holes, so he meticulously removes the grate, wincing as he’s sure the sound will alert the others.

He shoots the dart and leaps into the room, covering his hands with his sleeves as he removes the ropes.

“Quickly,” he urges, pulling Elena and Caroline out of the seats, but their movements are sluggish from the vampire poison. He holds up Elena with one arm and Caroline with the other as they navigate the isles of the warehouse.

Soon another guard appears in front of them and Damon rips his heart out, but they haven’t gotten much further before another two are behind them and three in front, they’re surrounded. Using his full speed he snaps a neck, and is then drowned by aneurysms. Rises in a hunch through the pain, he can’t let Elena down, finds her wielding a weapon and watches in awe as she somehow decapitates one of them despite the vervain and aneurysms, he smirks with pride, pulling out another heart. Caroline bites into one of them.

But more keep appearing, making the debilitating pain stronger. Then a fire alarm goes off. He only understands why when the sprinkler system starts, and the water pouring down on them turns to fire. They’re all making noise, even strong vampires don’t burn silently, but there’s a loud screech and he turns his head to find Caroline turning grey and vein-riddled, stake poking out from her chest.

“Elena,” he calls desperately, suddenly terrified for her. He hears no response. It seems ridiculous that this could be the end after everything. 

A stake is plunged into him. As he moves to fight back, it suddenly feels like he’s drying up and rotting from the inside out, and he realises it has pierced his heart. And it all fades away.

***

 

Klaus continues, day after day, month after month, year after year. However long it takes, squirrels witches out of mountain ranges and retreating ships, bustling cities and wildernesses. Until fire laps up their forests, and crop fields, and industrial brickwork. Until he can find no more, until they’re almost all dead. Until the world is burnt grey from lack of magic.

He’s tired, and he’s done.

Then she comes to him. It’s said her bones were built from old dark magic, eyes as dark as the world. Well, one of her underlings, Ciara, comes to him.

“What do you want?” Klaus snaps at the slip of a woman, winding fingers around her throat, knows there’s more power there than meets the eye, doesn’t care.

“My mistress wishes to speak with you,” she says demurely, unmoved by his attack.

“I care little for her wishes, leave, and be grateful I let you live,” he says briskly, but has no suspicion that she was at all involved with Stefan’s death; why would witches who work with such darkness care of his redemption.

“Why would you care so little, especially when she can end your suffering?” she asks with an annoyingly knowing voice, face jutted defiantly at him.

“No one can end my suffering,” he says resigned, forgoing his habitual quip; she knows better.

“But you’re going to let her try,” the woman states, yet again in that knowing cadence. 

“Tell her she may come.” It’s not like he has anything better to do.

“You will come to her,” she orders.

Klaus rolls his eyes and glares simultaneously.

“Very well.”

***

He has owned larger palaces, but it’s still a luxurious one. Walking through into the room he’s directed to, he sees her seated in a plush high-backed chair. He’s not surprised to find that it’s her; of all the attempts she probably came the closest to ending him, and that was never as easy feat. The girl hasn’t aged a day.

“Bonnie Bennett,” he says, tone deferential. 

He wants her to kill him, get it over with; he’s so tired with this. It’s only efficient to be polite.

“I thought I should thank you,” Bonnie says, her voice still as determined as he remembers, but now also rich and old, power-laden.

“For what?” he asks, already growing impatient.

“For eradicating my enemies so efficiently,” she says, dry amusement tingeing her expression.  

“The other witches? Believe me, it was entirely my pleasure.”

“Well, you’ve definitely earned a reward.”

“Are you going to kill me or not?”

“Still so impatient, no,” she says, meandering over to an altar. 

It’s a typical witch’s altar, unremarkable. He has little interest in her reward, rushes at her (it’s the best provocation he has) and is flung into a wall like a puny human. 

“All those who would challenge us are gone; now we truly can’t be stopped. It would be in your best interests to work with me,” she says, continuing her work at the altar.

“I don’t work with witches. If that’s what your little reward is contingent on, I will be leaving.”

“No, not at all. This reward is a thank you, a settlement if you will. It’s unwise to remain in another’s debt. Joining our forces is only a suggestion.”

***

_Four years earlier_

Ciara had worked with the hope of coming to the attention of the legend. In the end, her plans had paid off, the legend had found her.

“You will come with me. You shall serve me, and you will be rewarded,” the woman spoke, words sounding regal and scratched.

It felt as though the air itself was alive when she met her. She felt entranced. The fruition of years of work, and she was being offered everything, a chance to taste of this power. It felt like her veins were drugged and on fire; she couldn’t refuse, and she didn’t want to. Her mouth felt strange as if words might refuse to come, so she nodded instead. 

Bonnie held back a smile at the girl’s nod, as if she had a choice, as though her will hadn’t already been twinned to Bonnie’s own. She had been entering the girl’s dreams for over two years to set this game in motion, but no one else would come to know.

***

Klaus gasps as a body appears on the altar, refuses to believe his eyes.

“How dare you perform this mockery,” he yells, fists wrapping the edge of the altar to overturn it.

And then he hears a heartbeat, pauses. The body reanimates in that instant, springing upright.

“Stefan,” Klaus wonders.

“Nik,” Stefan whispers with awe, wide smile gracing his lips.

“Stefan,” Klaus gasps, launching into a hug, squeezing as though Stefan might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

“Hey,” Stefan croaks, patting his arm.

“Hmm,” Klaus says, only loosening his grip slightly, he pushes his face into the crook of Stefan’s neck and stays there. Stefan laughs.

“How long was I gone?”

“I don’t know. Long.”

“Five years,” Bonnie says from a corner. “Come Klaus, Stefan must rest.” 

***

“Still opposed to an alliance?” Bonnie asks smugly.

“It seems we could be useful to each other,” Klaus replies, grinning in turn.

***

Stefan’s mouth stays open, forming a small ‘o’ of surprise as he’s filled in on what he’s missed.

“I’m away for five years and you facilitate a world take-over?” Stefan states blankly.

“I was upset,” Klaus replies, shrugging.

Stefan walks towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Klaus asks, suddenly fearful.

“I just need some time alone, to process…everything,” Stefan says, shooting Klaus an apologetic look.

*** 

_Two weeks later_

“When are you going to stop avoiding me!” Klaus demands, blocking Stefan’s path. 

“I don’t know, I’m sorry, this is all so much. You killed all those witches, and now you’re working with Bonnie to take over the world. I need to know why, explain it to me, how did you get to this?” 

“Come on Stefan, is it really that much of a surprise, this is me,” Klaus points out.

“No, that was you a long time ago; you changed, maybe not in the eyes of those witches, not some redemptive ideal, but you were definitely different. What happened?”

“You were gone, and I…”

“Don’t. No…I can’t. You can’t put all of this on me. I can’t let you put all of this on me. I can’t be that person again, I don’t want to be that person who feels _so much_ guilt and _so much_ self-loathing for actions that _weren’t mine_. _You_ helped make me better, and after everything, after all this time, I can’t let you be the one to drag me back to that person. I won’t.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I know. But that’s the thing; you and I both know you’re already back there, because this isn’t even about the witches. I wish it was.”

“In what way is this not about you massacring almost an entire supernatural race?”

“You care about the witches, not as much as you want to, but enough. They’re not why you’re so angry.”

“Don’t.”  

“It’s not your fault, I’m not blaming you. You were gone, and I was lost, I was in a dream, I wasn’t here, the person I am now…the person you helped me become was gone, I returned to default settings. I was running on auto-pilot, and I let them be killed. I let your brother be killed…” Klaus trails off, and a deep silence descends, both of their gazes on the floor.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” Stefan finally whispers. 

“There shouldn’t be a way for us to come back from this, but there has to be, I need you too much for there to not be.” 

***

“You must stay Stefan,” Bonnie says, with a worldly intonation that reminds him of Emily Bennett.

“I want to stay with Klaus, but I can’t.”

“You can. It will take time, but that’s something we have an abundance of.”   

“You started this all didn’t you?” Stefan asks.

“Yes,” she states simply. Bonnie isn’t surprised by his insight, they’ve always shared the same darkness and the same light. “Klaus cannot know. It would not be wise to have two indestructible superpowers fighting across the earth—the destruction would be catastrophic, but you know this already.”

“Even if I stay, why would I help you take over the world?”

“You’ve already said it, after all that he’s done, you want to stay with Klaus; that isn’t going to change. I will have my vengeance with or without you; you might just get to control whether or not the world gets through it in one piece.”

“So I’m the world take-over watchdog,” Stefan deadpans. “It may be a long time before I can be with Klaus again, and he’s not going to wait around letting me work with you guys in the interim.”

“You will pretend, and carry on pretending, until one day it is real.”

“What makes you think I could do this even if I wanted to?”

“Because you are who you try to be, and you have no one to try for anymore except for Klaus,” Bonnie says poignantly.

Stefan looks at her, and she looks at him, he nods. This is the moment. It has been a long time coming. They both knew long ago, before anyone else would’ve ever guessed, back when she was a new witch protecting her loved ones, and he was a vampire protecting his own in turn. She had just saved him from a fire. They had looked at each other, shared a moment of wisdom, and had known her words weren’t small. That she would protect her loved ones, and destroy all those who stood in her way. Whoever and however that meant. 

***

“I’m staying,” Stefan states.

“I knew you would,” Klaus smirks, but the words are too full of gratitude to be convincing.

He moves to kiss Stefan, but the vampire moves away.

“I’m going to need some more time.”

“Why?”

Stefan gives him an incredulous glare and he sighs.

“Fine.”

He leaves the room because there’s something in his eye and grins at Bonnie as she enters.

“What happened to pretending?” Bonnie says when she’s sure Klaus is out of hearing range.

“I’m not doing that to Klaus, I love him, I’m not going to use him for your convenience, when I’m ready then I will be with him,” Stefan says, walking away.

She decides to leave him be for now.

Her plans can wait a while; their bonds must be strong for them all to gain full power.

For a month she watches them cautiously, spying on their interactions, taking in their faces when they think they’re alone, going from sorrow and anger to mildest cheer. Tallies Stefan’s finger twitches and replaces every crystal glass Klaus breaks. She knows they will be ready soon, knows it’s time to make her next move.

***

Bonnie’s face is on every television channel and every computer screen, and her voice every radio, on the planet. Her stare is direct and intense, her smile knowing as always and conniving as Venus fly-traps.

“Hello.”

She makes no super-villain speeches. Then she is gone.

***

Over the next few days, everyone makes up their own ideas of what happened, of who this mysterious woman was, and how she managed to gain control of all the systems at once. Media trumpets the idea of super-hackers, aliens, spies, new computer viruses. A witch tells everyone who she is and is called crazy. Then there are also ideas of sorcerers, of magic, of witches and warlocks, of devils and angels. She lets the legends grow.

Klaus rips off the buttons on Stefan’s shirt, his lover has finally stopped avoiding him and they’re fucking on the sofa. But every time he tries to kiss Stefan, he’s manoeuvred somewhere else.

“What is it?” he demands impatiently.

“Can we just forget everything and do this?” Stefan replies.

“No. What’s wrong?”

“Everything. But I can’t not love you.”

“Well, that’s lovely to hear,” Klaus says, snapping his neck.

***

“Hi,” Stefan says.

“Hello, love,” Klaus replies. “Sorry about the whole neck-snap thing.”

“That’s okay. You know we will get through all this, it’s just going to take time.”

“I miss you,” Klaus whispers.

“I know, I miss you too,” Stefan says, pressing his forehead to Klaus’s.

That evening as Bonnie sits around one of her smaller tables eating with Klaus and Stefan, she notices a difference; for once they’re relaxed with each other, smiling more light-heartedly, speaking less warily. She knows the time is right, now her boys are ready. She makes a toast, and they clink glasses together, celebrating their alliance and what’s to come.

They stay with her as night falls and the full moon begins to crest.

“It’s time,” she states, and Klaus and Stefan give her their blood as they had agreed.

Taking the chalice filled with blood, she pours the power-laden liquid onto the table, whispering words of an ancient tongue; joining her boys to her. They will take this journey together.

“We are now bound as one,” she states when the ritual is over.

Stefan looks wary still, but Klaus only grins and winds his arm around Stefan’s shoulders. Bonnie gives them a soft smile before walking to the window and opening it. She stands there, hands rubbing her arms against the chill.

She breathes in the world, entirety of nature’s power laid out for her, barely anyone to share it with, and no one to stop her. Pictures every drop of oceans, every gust of wind, every blade of grass and draws the power to herself.

“Come to me,” she commands; nature is her servant now.

Plants wither and darken and die, orchards and crop fields and vegetable gardens alike.

She returns to everyone’s screens and makes a simple announcement (garnished with a reborn forest).

“If you give me the world, I will bring it back to life.”

***

In the next days, statement after statement flies out of the offices of governments, religious organisations, monarchies and other bodies of power, all declaring a surrender. The world is being turned over to Bonnie Bennett.

_It’s said her bones were built from old dark magic._

 


End file.
